*In a puffy black vest, jeans, ultra-durable tennis shoes, and 2+ headlamps attached to his forehead.
*In a white robe on the couch eating fancy, protein-ambushed eggs while watching the morning news.
*In pristine, ironed golfing attire and an obnoxiously big golfing club as an accessory, practicing his swing in the family room with the professionals (boringly) doing what they do on the tv screen.
*In a white lab coat and freaky magnifying glasses peering into my mouth with an odd instrument at his office.
*In my high school stadium wearing red attire and a paparazzi-status camera lens...taking flip-book like pictures while cheering/graduating.
These are the images that flood my mind regarding my dad. My sweet, can-talk-to-anyone-in-the-elevator, athlete obsessive, too-kind-to-yell-at-a-fly, and tells-his-patients-more-about-me-than-I-know-myself father. He's the absolute best. And I want to celebrate him on this Father's Day. Because he is extra special to me....and he deserves to know that.
Dad, thanks for being so supportive, loving, and generous. Thank you for specially ordering my personalized license plate HAYBAY, that I now get teased for as an aspiring young professional in the university world. Thank you for only getting truly mad at me once, that being when I destroyed my front bumper after accidentally driving into a center divider. Oops. Thank you for selflessly financing all of my worldly adventures. Thank you for shedding a tear (I can almost swear you did) at my graduation...adding to the only other two times you've cried on record in your life (while watching the movie Field of Dreams and when Magic Johnson announced he had AIDS). I guess mostly, thanks for being you. I love and adore you more than High School Musical, more than So You Think You Can Dance, and more than my mascara--which really means a lot because there are very few things in life that can compete with the three.
I love you, Dad.
And I hope you've had a wonderful, stupendous, LOVE-filled Father's Day.
making the switch.
5 years ago